


What Are the Odds?

by kurokonekokilled



Series: Seireitei Dungeon [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM themes, Blowjobs, Choking, Complete, Cuddling, D/s themes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Face Slapping, Flogging, Getting Together, Hickies, Ichigo is a sassy shit, M/M, Proper BDSM Etiquette, Safe Sane Conseual, Spanking, Zaraki loves it, age gap, bdsm club, chef Ichigo, healthy BDSM, kink negotiations, musician Zaraki, positioning, proper aftercare, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 06:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18986899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokonekokilled/pseuds/kurokonekokilled
Summary: Modern day AU. Ichigo has just turned 18 and is making his first foray into Seireitei Dungeon, a BDSM club he's been dying to  check out. While talking to the guy tending the snack bar, none other than Zaraki Kenpachi - the bassist of one of his favorite bands - marches in. Shinji calls him over and the two hit it off. Basically a lot of smut with some very light story building and a lil bit of aftercare to give you the warm and fuzzies.





	What Are the Odds?

Ichigo swallowed as he stepped over the threshold of Seireitei Dungeon. It was the day after his eighteenth birthday, and he proudly flashed his ID to prove it, ignoring the chuckle he got from the bouncer at the door.

“Alright, go in, straight to the desk, sign in or sign up,” the small, black haired female told him, gesturing towards the mahogany desk in the middle of the well lit lobby.

Ichigo gave her a polite nod, stepping forward and not allowing himself to pause before making his way to the desk. There wasn’t much else in the room, and Ichigo watched as a group of people walked up behind him and signed in on the thick, leather bound binder laying on the corner of the desk.

“Hi! Are you new here?”

A cheerful voice broke him out of his observation and he wiped sweaty palms on his denim clad thighs before nodding.

“Yes, this is my first time,” he said quietly.

“That’s great! Seireitei is a wonderful place to come for your first experience,” the bubbly strawberry blonde behind the desk told him, reaching down and pulling out a sheath of papers from the drawer. “I’m just gonna have you sign a few things and answer a few questions, then you’ll be free to go.”

He watched as she pulled out the first paper, reading it over before signing and dating, agreeing that he was in fact eighteen or older, was aware of the nature of the club, and was here of his own volition, along with a non-disclosure agreement stapled to the back. She asked to see his most recent STD screening results with the next paper, smiling kindly as he fumbled to pull up the email on his phone and show her his clean bill of health before signing. The last page was a quick overview of the floor rules, and Ichigo made sure to read it thoroughly. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up the first night he was here.

 

  * __Consent is never implied. Verbal consent is required for any form of physical contact, unless a contract is already in place. If a handshake is offered, consent does not need to be verbally requested, but you may decline shaking their hand for any reason you may have. Under no circumstances are you required to touch someone or required to let someone touch you, whether platonic or otherwise.__


  * _Safewords must be discussed and decided upon in front of another, non-participating party before any scene takes place, unless a contract is already in place._


  * _If a house Dominant feels that a scene is getting out of hand or that anyone is in danger, they have full rights to put a stop to the scene, under any and all circumstances._


  * _Aftercare is required, and will be skipped under no circumstances. Sufficient aftercare - at least enough to prevent sub drop long enough to make it home before more is administered - must be provided in the building before participants leave and all parties must be cognisant and aware of their surroundings before they leave._


  * _Respect is the foundation of everything. Dominants will be just as respectful of submissives as submissives are of Dominants, or they will be expelled from the building and not invited back._


  * _Remember to abide by the three biggest rules - Safe, Sane, Consensual._



 

Ichigo nodded, signing the bottom of that page as well. He was glad there were no house rules about submissive behavior - eye contact and posture and the likes - even if it was implied in the title of Submissive. He didn't like the idea of having to act that way to someone he wouldn't submit to.

“Great!” the girl chirped. “I’m just gonna make a copy of your ID and then you’ll be good to go. If you’re a submissive, would you like me to bring you a working collar?”

“A working collar?” Ichigo asked, tilting his head to the side.

“It’s a plain, unadorned, non-locking collar that shows that you’re an unowned submissive,” she explained happily. “It’s basically just so other subs don’t ask you to dominate them, and so that Doms know that you’re unattached. It doesn’t give them the right to your submission or make it a requirement for you to scene; if you’re not interested, all you have to do is say no, and if they don’t back off, just grab someone wearing a light blue staff shirt and we’ll escort them out.”

That would certainly make things easier. He was wondering how he was supposed to make the distinction other than just, well, assuming. But he liked the idea. And it was certainly comforting to know that they had people watching in case anything went wrong.

“I-I would like one, then, please,” he answered, a blush working its way onto his cheeks as he looked down.

The girl smiled brightly and flounced away, coming back what felt like seconds later with his ID and a thin strip of soft brown leather. She handed him his ID and beckoned him closer, smiling.

“I’m gonna put the collar on you, if you consent?” she asked. “It’s for safety purposes, so we know it’s not too tight and won’t chafe if it’s too loose.”

Ichigo nodded before catching himself.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

She smiled, looping the leather around his slender throat, pulling it just snug enough that he was aware of its presence without it being constricting. He watched her as she leaned back with a bright smile, his fingers floating up to feel the leather absently.

“Alright, good to go! If you need anything, remember, everyone in the light blue shirts are staff and we’re all here to help. My name’s Inoue, I’ll be up here and at the snack bar, so if a friendly face helps, you know where to find me!”

Her enthusiasm made him smile, giving her a friendly wave as she directed him through the heavy door off to the side. It swung open soundlessly, and he had to hold back a thrilled, impressed gasp.

The floor space was bright, but not obnoxiously so. People were scattered around, some trussed up on various equipment, some stark naked, others fully dressed in a wide array of clothing styles. No one stared at him like he was an anomaly, no one gawked at his orange hair, no one did much more than smile welcomingly as he made his way around the room, taking in the sights and letting himself get used to it.

His hands were stuffed in his skin tight jeans, a deep red v-neck stretched across his muscles. The collar was a quiet reminder, a comforting weight, and he found himself allowing longer glances at some equipment and toys that were laid out before looking away again. Of course, the blush that painted his cheeks was in no way going to calm down, he hadn’t even started to hope that would happen. And with the occasional moans, the snaps of a flogger or a crop here and there, he knew he’d probably be blushing for a week.

Sidling up to the snack bar, he glanced up at the menu. There were light sandwiches, warm soups, tea, coffee, cocoa, chocolate, fruit, juice, all kinds of things that he’d read were good when coming out of subspace.

“Hey there, anything I can get for ya?”

A lithe blond with straight cut bangs and a wide toothed grin was leaning against the other side of the counter, brown eyes glittering at him.

“Oh, um, could I just get a water please?” Ichigo asked, glad he didn’t stutter.

“Sure thing, sugar,” the blond replied, leaning down and grabbing a cold bottle of water from under the counter. He waved Ichigo off when the boy tried to pull his wallet out. “Water’s always on the house, doll, gotta keep our lovelies hydrated.”

Ichigo blushed again, smiling as he took the bottle.

“Thank you.”

Once again, the blond waved him off.

“No need for thanks.” Another happy grin was shot his way. “First time here? You’re all sorts of jittery.”

“Y-yeah, I just turned eighteen, and I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while,” Ichigo said, rubbing at the back of his neck as his face heated again. “I’ve never really been around anything like this, so I guess I’m a bit nervous.”

“No worries, sugar, everyone’s nervous the first few times,” the man laughed, extending his hand. “I’m Hirako Shinji, me and ‘Hime run the snack bar - that’s Inoue, by the way, Orihime Inoue, so I call her ‘Hime.”

Ichigo nodded, smiling, and took the hand offered to him.

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” he introduced.

“Cute name,” Shinji grinned, squeezing his hand one last time before dropping it, giggling as Ichigo blushed. “For a cute boy, too.”

Ichigo blustered for a moment, not used to being so blatantly hit on.

“Baby boy, don’t go embarrassing the customers,” another voice chided.

Ichigo turned toward the voice, jaw dropping open for half a second as he took in the man loping over and placing a thumb against Shinji’s bottom lip. He _had_ to be like ten feet tall, and was ridiculously skinny, an eyepatch covering his left eye.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Shinji mewled softly, pressing a kiss to the thumb against his lips.

The tall man looked over at Ichigo and laughed, extending his free hand.

“Nnoitra Gilga, seven feet, half an inch tall,” he stated, mirth shining in that one lavender-grey eye, a piano toothed grin stretched across his face. “Shin’s my little brat.”

Ichigo took his hand, blushing again.

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” he reiterated. “Sorry if I stared or anything, I’ve just never met someone so tall. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Nnoitra just laughed and shook his head.

“No need, kid, I always say it so people don’t ask later,” he explained. His eye shifted to a couple who’d just come up to the bar. “Gotta go back to work, if this one misbehaves,” he said, nodding to Shinji, “make sure to tell me.”

Ichigo laughed, glancing away as Nnoitra pulled the slight blond up for a searing kiss before strolling over to the other customers. Shinji was blushing and patting his hair back into place when Ichigo looked back.

“So, Ichi, since it’s your first time here, what are you looking for? Do you want to try subbing for someone, wanna watch, wanna find a mentor? I make it a point to know everyone here, so I can point you in the right direction.”

Ichigo was still blushing, knowing he shouldn’t be surprised at how nonchalant Shinji was about calling another man Daddy in front of him, and it’s not like he had a problem with it at all, but he was kind of a sheltered kid.

Not exactly used to that kind of display, or the blunt questions.

“Um, I think I might want to try subbing for someone?” he answered hesitantly, not knowing if that was the right direction to head in.

“Don’t have to sound so uncertain, if that’s what you want, that’s what you want,” Shinji said, shrugging. “The ones who have subs on leashes are a no-go, some of them are non-monogamous, but you should start out with one, not two. If you like being spoiled, the one in the pink jacket with the brown hair is Shunsui-san."

Ichigo’s eyes trailed to an absolutely gorgeous man sipping a cup of tea, talking amongst a group of people.

“If you like strict, the blonde in the white pants is Mistress Halibel.”

A tanned, muscled woman, sitting demurely across from Shunsui, a small smile on her face. If Ichigo was even the least bit straight, he’d probably be at her feet in a heartbeat.

As it was, he just rubbed the back of his neck and let out a little laugh, catching Shinji’s attention.

“Uh, I’m, um, gay,” he forced out.

Obviously, he wouldn’t have a problem with it. Shinji had a very _male_ Dom, and had blatantly hit on him earlier. It was still kind of weird to just be able to be free with it though. He’d kept it hidden until his senior year of high school, and probably had only not gotten shit for it because he could kick anyone’s ass.

“I figured, but I wanted to give ya options, sugar,” Shinji chuckled. “I don’t think Sir Kaname would be a good fit for you, at least not first time. He’s very demanding and challenging, and he doesn’t accept anything but perfection.”

Ichigo looked over at the group again, seeing who Shinji was nodding at, and silently agreed. He was attractive enough, but he had a very proper air about him that made Ichigo feel like he’d mess up immediately. As he was turning back to Shinji, a flash of movement caught his eye. A hulking man, nearly Nnoitra’s height, but all muscle, was making his way over to the group, waving as he did so.

“Wh-what about him?” Ichigo asked, unable to take his eyes off the man. There was no way in hell that was who he thought it was, even if the eyepatch, scars, and wicked grin were all telling him that it most certainly was.

Shinji laughed low in his throat, his brown eyes lighting up. He didn’t even answer Ichigo before he called out.

“Oi! Zaraki!”

Ichigo’s heart stopped as he heard that name and saw one green eye snap over to where they were standing. That eye lingered on him, perusing his frame and catching on the collar around his throat, a wolfish grin on his features, before flitting behind him to meet Shinji’s beckoning wave.

He started striding over, long legs eating up the distance quickly, and Ichigo felt his heart rate skyrocket, pounding in his chest.

Before he knew it, the man was leaning up against the counter next to him, an appraising eye looking him over once again before turning to Shinji.

“What’s up, Shin?” a gruff voice asked.

Ichigo nearly melted into a puddle where he stood.

“Well,” Shinji drawled. “I just so happened to be talking to the newest sub about who would be good for his first time here, but _someone_ had to come catch his eye and steal the show.”

The grumble in his voice was negated by the mile wide grin on his face, but Ichigo almost groaned. Why did he have to say that? He could have just told Ichigo about Zaraki instead of calling him over, it’s not like he’d have had the courage to actually just go up to the man on his own.

“That so?”

Zaraki’s voice was almost a purr as he turned his gaze back to Ichigo, taking in the blush across his cheeks, the way his fingers were twisting together nervously.

“I’m gonna leave you to it, call me if you need anything,” Shinji chirped, waving a hand over his shoulder and winking as he skipped towards Nnoitra, eyes soft and affectionate as he made his way over.

“Caught your eye, did I, sub?” Zaraki asked.

Gods, that _voice_. Ichigo had known he was attracted to the man - who wouldn’t be - but he hadn’t thought that his voice would be so much richer, so much more seductive in real life, standing barely two feet from him.

“What’s your name?”

“K-Kurosaki Ichigo,” he forced out, not able to keep his eyes from falling to the floor in embarrassment.

“Zaraki Kenpachi,” the gruff man introduced warmly, a smirk on his face. “Any reason you’re refusing to look at me?”

If possible, the flush on Ichigo’s cheeks grew brighter, his face burning up.

“No, I just-” Ichigo cut himself off, taking a deep breath and forcing his eyes up, trying to ignore the blush burning his face, fingers playing with the label on his water bottle. “I just know who you are, and I don’t want you to think I’m like, a crazy fan, or something,” he mumbled, glancing away again.

Zaraki laughed, a low, rolling sound that filled Ichigo’s gut with heat.

“Well, what are the odds,” Zaraki chuckled. “You’re not acting like a crazed fan, though, and you’re certainly not acting like someone who’s only interested because of who I am.”

Ichigo knew he wasn’t imagining the smug overtone in the words, and looked up with a scowl before he caught himself.

“That’s a pretty look,” Zaraki purred down at him, shifting slightly closer. “You like to fight a bit, Ichigo?”

The way his name rolled off that tongue almost made Ichigo moan. It sounded so sinful, so filled with molten heat, that he almost forgot to respond.

“Yes,” he answered simply. Challengingly.

The look in Zaraki’s eye told him that that was exactly the right answer. A long tongue came out to lick over his bottom lip, and Ichigo couldn’t help but follow it with his eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me what else you like?” Zaraki suggested. “Maybe if we’re on the same page I’ll see about letting you fight a little.”

Ichigo swore he could’ve cum just from listening to that gravelly voice, watching the heat flicker in that single green eye. He hopped up on the stool behind him, swinging his legs aimlessly as he spoke.

“I’m interested in pain, and I think I’ll be able to take a lot, but I haven’t explored anything yet, much less gotten close to my limits. I want to be put in my place, not just submit because I’m told to. Face slapping has always interested me, I really, really love giving head, and I think I might like bondage because I like the idea of being restricted and kind of helpless.”

Ichigo flushed further listening to himself, but he didn’t have the courage to lift his eyes from watching his fingers play with his water bottle.

“Choking and hair pulling really get me going, I like getting tossed around. Kind of just in general rough treatment - I like being held hard and being shoved down and being flipped and I like the idea of having bruises and marks from where I was held or pinned or tied. I think impact play in general is pretty much a green light.”

He finished, glancing up quickly and seeing Zaraki focusing entirely on him, one arm holding him up against the bar. After a few seconds of silence, the man spoke.

“What about hard limits?” he queried.

“No animals, no bodily fluids but, uh, cum and spit and like, sweat,” he laughed. “Nothing that leaves permanent marks or leaves me unable to move around for work, no pictures or videos, and I don’t want to do any public stuff until I’m more comfortable with everything, but maybe after I know more.”

Zaraki nodded, leaning forward a bit.

“What do you do for work?” he asked. When Ichigo hesitated, he continued, “I’m not asking where you work, just a general field. I need to know what kind of range of motion I need to leave you.”

It made sense, and sounded so simple, not sexual at all, but Ichigo’s dick twitched in his jeans at the thought of what Zaraki would leave him _unable_ to do.

“I’m a sous chef, so I need to be able to walk and bend and lift stuff by Monday night,” he answered hesitantly, glancing up just in time to catch another heart stopping grin.

“If this goes well, you might have to cook for me sometime,” Zaraki told him lowly. “And that gives you two whole days for rest, so that won't be a problem.”

Ichigo nodded, his heart thudding in his chest at the idea of doing something like this with him more than once. Of him wanting do this more than once.

“How old are you? And you said this was your first time; I’m assuming you meant in a situation like this, not that you’re a virgin?”

Ichigo blushed again, gods, everything was asked so bluntly, and he was _so_ not used to it, not in the slightest.

“I just turned eighteen yesterday,” he muttered. “And I’m not a virgin, but I’m…I’m not very experienced either.”

“I’m twenty-six, does that bother you?” When Ichigo shook his head, he continued. “I don’t need you to be experienced, just willing to learn. Do you think you can do that for me, Ichigo?” he asked.

Ichigo took a deep breath and looked him in the eye before nodding firmly.

“Yes, I can.”

Zaraki’s eye raked over his body again, scanning his face, a smirk settling across his features as he began to speak.

“Well, Ichigo, if you consent, I’d like to take you back to a private room, teach you how to kneel properly, spank you, and flog you. If you’re doing alright after that, I’d like to see what you can do with that pretty little mouth, and then I’d like to fuck you until you can’t think anymore. All of that sound ok? You can decline anything you want, and if you want to add something, I’ll consider it.”

Ichigo was flushed all the way down to his chest, he was sure of it. Part of it was embarrassment, but most of it was arousal, that low, growling voice supplying him with perfect images. He was pretty sure he was about one more suggestion from coming in his pants right there.

“That all sounds good,” he choked out, seemingly unable to take his eyes off Zaraki now as he stood at his full height. He glanced away, blushing, but forced out, "I prefer bareback, if that's ok."

“That's more than ok with me. How about we run over to my friends so we can properly establish safewords, and then we can get started, how’s that sound?”

The man’s voice was a low purr, and Ichigo just wanted to melt. He nodded dazedly.

“Verbal consent,” Zaraki reminded him sharply.

“Yes, please,” Ichigo said almost immediately, allowing his instincts to take over.

“Good boy,” Zaraki murmured, smiling down at him. “May I kiss you?”

Ichigo choked, not expecting that at all.

“Yes,” he nearly whispered, watching as Zaraki leaned in closer.

It was nothing like he expected, no slamming him up against the bar, no hand in his hair, just a firm, insistent press of lips against his own. He went pliant under the touch after stiffening in surprise, letting his tongue swipe along the taller man’s bottom lip pleadingly. Something akin to a whimper left his mouth when Zaraki pulled back.

“Behave now, boy,” was growled into his ear, a chuckle following as his breath hitched. “There’s plenty of time for that later.”

Ichigo allowed himself to be led over to the group of people that Shinji had been showing him earlier, nerves settling back into his stomach.

“Now, how’d you snag him before I even managed to talk to him?” a rich, deep voice called out to them.

Zaraki laughed, smirking at the man - Shunsui, Ichigo remembered.

“Boy’s got better taste than you hoped, that’s how,” Zaraki teased. “Everyone, this is Ichigo. Ichigo, this is Shunsui, Halibel, Kaname, Grimmjow, Byakuya and his boy, Renji, Neliel - Inoue up front is her pup, Sosuke and his pet, Gin, and everyone’s favorite house Dom, Toshiro.”

All of them acknowledged their names in some form, nodding or smiling or raising a hand, and Ichigo nodded and smiled back at them, his stomach churning.

“Ichigo’s a bit nervous, it’s his first time, so we’re gonna establish safewords and then get him in a room,” Zaraki explained.

Ichigo kind of wanted to lean into him or just grab his arm, just to have something to hold onto, because everyone was looking at him, but he hadn’t asked, so he stayed still and just fumbled with his water.

Zaraki turned to him, and Ichigo looked up, seemingly forgetting everything else.

“Alright, sub,” Zaraki murmured soothingly. “I’m gonna need two words, one to slow down and one to stop.”

Ichigo nodded, biting his lip for a moment as he thought. He’d picked some out, but he wanted to be certain of them.

“Can I use ‘hold’ to slow down and ‘cut’ to stop?” he asked quietly.

“Ichigo, you can use anything you want, you don’t have to ask. You tell me what to use, and I abide by those words. I’ll do color checks as well - green is good, yellow is slow, and red is stop. I check in to make sure you're ok, but you can safeword at any time, whether or not I'm asking. I’ll also stop if I think it’s getting to be too much, whether or not you want to or if you’ve safeworded, clear?”

“Yes,” he answered, relieved that it didn’t seem

stupid. “Then, ‘hold’ to slow and ‘cut’ to stop, please.”

“Perfect manners,” Zaraki murmured down at him, heat flaring in his eye again. “Let’s get you in a room and see if you really know how to behave, boy.”

“Have fun! I'll be here if you get bored of him!” Shunsui called, both of them and the group laughing.

Ichigo walked at Zaraki’s side as they made their way towards the back of the room. He'd passed the door that they were heading to earlier, figuring it was an office or an emergency exit or something. But Zaraki pushed open the door, nodding to the hulking man standing guard beside it, leaning back to allow Ichigo to pass, and he was greeted with a fairly plain hallway.

The walls were a mid gray, just dark enough to be soothing without feeling like the space was too small. The doors were all a bright, pristine white, shining silver handles and small plaques adorning each of them.

Zaraki led him to the closest door, looking down at him before he began his explanation.

“The plaques are so you know if a room is occupied,” he started. “The first ten rooms are all the same, the last six have specific themes and certain things stocked in them, but we’ll get to those later.”

Ichigo glanced down the hall, noting that the last six doors were actually painted a deep, welcoming blue instead of white.

“Now,” Zaraki said, snapping Ichigo’s attention back to him. “If the slot is white, it means the room is unoccupied. If it’s green, it means the room is occupied, but people are welcome to come join. If it's yellow, it means people are welcome to come watch. If it's red, like I'm gonna put it to for tonight, it means the room is occupied and no one is allowed in unless it's an emergency.”

“How would they get in if it's an emergency?” Ichigo asked.

“None of the doors lock, for safety purposes, but you don't have to worry about anyone coming in if that sign is red, I promise. If there's an emergency and you can't get out of the room, you scream ‘siren’ as loud as you can. There's always someone by the rooms just in case, so they'll hear you, ok?”

Ichigo looked up into that single green eye, seeing the warmth and the conviction there, and he smiled, nodding. Zaraki felt his chest go warm at the sweetness emanating from the boy.

“Ok. So do we go in now?”

Zaraki chuckled down at him, the sound washing over Ichigo and making him feel like his knees were going to give out. No one’s voice should sound that enticing.

“First, a few rules. When I open this door, you're going to walk in, strip, including the collar, and kneel in front of the chair. I'll have gotten myself comfy by the time you're done with that, is that ok?”

“Yes,” Ichigo agreed immediately.

“Good boy,” Zaraki purred, grinning at the shudder that tore through Ichigo. “The second we walk through that door, you address me as Sir. You answer ‘yes, Sir’ or ‘no, Sir’ and use my title any time you speak to me.”

His voice had dropped an octave, and Ichigo felt his dick twitch in his jeans for what felt like the millionth time. Just the thought of using that title made his heart beat faster.

“Do you like to be called anything specific, boy?” Zaraki murmured.

Gods, his voice was sex brought to life. Ichigo didn't know how he was going to handle it when the man spoke to him during this.

But right now, he was blushing and trying not to rub his neck before he answered.

“I, um, I like ‘Kitten,’ Sir,” he nearly whispered.

“Kitten, huh? That suits you well,” Zaraki agreed. “And such a good boy remembering my title already.”

Ichigo's eyes made their way back to the man’s face, shivering at the small, promising grin stretching his lips.

“Are you ready, Kitten?”

Ichigo took a deep breath, both steeling himself and trying not to react outwardly to the way that rolled off Zaraki’s tongue.

“Yes, Sir.”

And with that, the door opened, and Ichigo stepped inside. He paused for a moment, taking in the room in front of him, before shaking himself out of his trance and remembering what he had been instructed to do.

  


Zaraki watched as the boy in front of him looked around the room before shaking himself and starting to move.

A grin split his face as he made his way over to the comfortable, plush armchair and sank down into it. Long legs crossed casually, he watched the blush work its way back to Ichigo’s face as the shirt came off after he'd toed off his sneakers, the collar following.

Damn, he was more than lucky. Defined, rippling muscles complemented broad shoulders leading down to toned biceps, a tight waist. This kid was practically a walking wet dream, and he was probably too shy and innocent to even really know it.

He knew he was in for it when those skin tight jeans got yanked off, strong, lithe thighs being bared for him. All he could think about was having those legs wrapped around his waist while he plowed into that pretty little ass.

Ichigo folded his jeans like he'd done his shirt, placing them on the floor next to his shoes and water. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tight black briefs, and Zaraki wanted to peel them off with his teeth while the boy writhed under him.

Zaraki noted the pause that Ichigo took, and spoke up.

“If you'd like to leave those on for now, I'll permit it until you're more comfortable,” he offered.

His sub’s comfort was the most important thing to him; he wanted to make sure he made this experience mind blowing enough that Ichigo would come back for more.

He certainly wasn't expecting the cocky grin he got in response, nor the easy way Ichigo’s thumbs hooked in the waistband and pulled them down, tossing them over to his other clothes.

“No, Sir, that’s fine. I figure you'd enjoy seeing me more like this anyway, don't you?”

Zaraki raised a brow at him for a moment. Well, there was that spark, and he had a feeling Ichigo knew damn well that he was going to get his ass handed to him for his sass.

“You think so, Kitten?” he drawled.

Ichigo took another two steps forward, never looking away from him. He dropped to his knees gracefully, muscles moving under his skin and making Zaraki want to run his tongue over all of them. Spreading his legs slightly, Ichigo placed his hands palm up on his bare thighs, staring straight into Zaraki’s eye.

“I know so, Sir.”

Half hard, completely exposed to the hulking man in front of him, and he still had the gall to be a little brat. Zaraki was gonna enjoy this.

“I see you know how to kneel,” he stated blandly, letting the snark go for now. The boy would get the punishment he so clearly craved soon enough.

“Yes, Sir,” Ichigo replied calmly. “I did quite a bit of research before coming here.”

“Smart boy. I'm glad you did,” Zaraki praised, smirking at the hint of that shy little boy he’d had just moments ago. “Tell me your safe words, Kitten.”

“Hold to slow, cut to stop. Green is good, yellow is slow, red is stop,” he listed. “And siren is for emergencies.”

“Such a good boy.”

A blush was building on Ichigo’s cheeks as he glanced away. Zaraki always liked giving praise, so it was good the boy enjoyed it. Quite a bit, if the way his cock was hardening even further was any indication.

“Since you're already so good at kneeling for me, why don't we move on? I'm going to have you bend that pretty little ass over my knee, and I'm going to spank you,” Zaraki growled, watching the way Ichigo’s cock almost immediately sprung to full hardness. “Come, Kitten.”

Ichigo looked up at him, an excited flush on his face, but he didn't move. A smirk spread over his face as he settled back further into his kneeling position. _Perfect_.

Zaraki didn't say anything, just leaned forward and gripped a handful of all that bright hair, and yanked. Ichigo’s mouth opened in a surprised gasp, but he didn't have the time to struggle before he was exactly how Zaraki wanted him. His ass was propped over the man’s knees - he'd finally uncrossed his legs - and his head was down near the floor.

“Not so hard now, surely?” Zaraki teased. “Well, that wasn't, but _you_ certainly are.”

Ichigo choked on his response when the pads of long, rough fingers trailed down the length of his cock. He couldn't stop his hips from bucking forward at the sensation.

“Now, Kitten,” Zaraki drawled, ignoring the whine of protest he got when his hand fell away. “You've sassed me twice, completely ignored a direct command, and now you're trying to get me to touch you before you've earned it. Quite a list to start out with. You’ll count each strike with my title; any that you don't count will make me restart. I think ten will be enough, don't you?”

Ichigo twisted his head around as best he could, smirking.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out, won't we, _Sir_?” he replied, pressing his ass back into the hand that was laid on it.

“Eleven,” Zaraki said evenly, pulling his hand back.

When the first hit came down, Ichigo jolted, but couldn't help feeling disappointed. That was barely a sting, was that all Zaraki had? Was all that muscle just for show?

Then the next hit came down, and Ichigo’s spine arched, a gasp tearing through his lungs. Fucking hell. Definitely not just for show.

Zaraki chuckled above him, rubbing his hand gently over the reddened skin.

“Color, sub?” he asked. Normally, he wouldn't check so soon, but this was Ichigo’s first time, so he needed to be extra careful.

“Green, Sir,” he choked out, hips stuttering involuntarily.

“Good boy. You're at twelve.”

And with that, his hand came down harshly again. The boy’s fingers clenched at his calf, a ragged, sobbing moan falling from his lips. He saw the moment Ichigo gave in, the stiffness of his shoulders falling away as he breathed out the words.

“One, Sir.”

Zaraki smiled over him, pulling his hand back again. Ichigo’s ass bounced with the impact, and it made Zaraki almost want to ignore the rest of the punishment so he could see how it would bounce when he was fucking the redhead.

“Two, Sir,” Ichigo breathed out.

But this was better. Ichigo’s clenched teeth and the fingers digging into his calf, the way his thighs tensed up so deliciously - Zaraki couldn't get enough.

His hand came down over and over, alternating sides and changing the strength of his swings just to keep Ichigo off balance. He could feel the boy’s cock leaking on his thigh.

“Eight, Sir.”

That time, Ichigo’s words were a broken moan, punctuated by a little involuntary swivel of his hips into the strong thigh beneath him.

“Such a good little kitten for me,” Zaraki crooned, rubbing his hand gently over the heated skin to give Ichigo a bit of a break. “Color?”

“Green, Sir, please,” Ichigo whined, pressing his ass back into Zaraki’s hand.

Zaraki grinned, squeezing his handful harshly before he lifted his palm again. Ichigo was doing so well for him, looked so pretty all laid out like this, begging to be hit.

He was going to wreck this boy.

“Alright, Kitten,” he murmured, resting his hand on heated flesh after several more strikes. “Last one, you ready?”

Ichigo nearly sobbed, whether in relief or anticipation, he didn't even know.

“Please, Sir.”

Zaraki licked his lips, doing his best to ignore the way his cock was throbbing in his jeans. His hand came down one last time, the crack echoing through the room along with Ichigo’s broken shout of ecstasy.

“T-twelve, Sir,” he panted out.

Zaraki scooped him up, turning him around to straddle his thighs, holding him close against his chest as the boy caught his breath.

“So good, Ichigo, such a good boy for me,” he praised, his fingers running lightly up and down the redhead’s back.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ichigo mumbled into his throat, hips pressing forward as his breath evened.

Zaraki smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Ichigo’s head.

“Do you want to continue, Kitten? We can go on to the flogger, or we can skip it and go to the more pleasurable parts, or we can stop and I'll take care of you,” Zaraki said, leaning back a little so he could look down into those molten amber eyes. He was sure if he wasn't careful he'd drown in them.

“I don't want to stop,” Ichigo answered, not quite meeting Zaraki’s eyes as the blush spread back along his cheeks.

“Tell me what you want, little kitten.”

“Can-” he cut himself off, burrowing closer to Zaraki. “Can we do the flogger on my back and not my ass, Sir?”

“Anything you want,” Zaraki told him, thumb coming up to rub over Ichigo’s plush bottom lip.

Ichigo took a deep breath, nipping at the finger and smirking as his eyes snapped back to Zaraki’s.

“I want ten more from the flogger on my back, then I want to show you how good I am with my mouth, and then I want you fuck me until I scream.” He tilted his head to the side coquettishly, rolling his hips down onto the bulge in Zaraki’s pants as he smirked. “Sound good to you, Sir?”

Zaraki’s hand shot up to fist in all that orange hair, yanking the boy’s head back.

“You can have fifteen from the flogger for that sass, boy,” he growled, tugging a little more on the strands in his grasp. “And then we're gonna find out how much of me you can take into that mouth of yours. When I'm done with that, I'm gonna bend you in half and fuck your brains out until you can barely breathe.” He snarled ferociously, staring the boy in his lap down. “Sound good to you, _Kitten_?”

Ichigo licked his lips, unable to repress the way his breathing picked up.

“Sounds perfect, Sir, if you think you can handle me,” he snarked.

Zaraki just grinned, hauling him off his lap by his hair and dragging him up to stand.

“Let's find out,” he murmured against Ichigo’s ear, chuckling at the shiver that ran through him. “Stay just how you are.”

Ichigo didn't move as Zaraki strolled over to a large cabinet tucked neatly into the corner of the room. He pulled the doors open, perusing for a moment, before pulling out a simple leather flogger and snapping it against his hand. Looking back at Ichigo with a grin, he circled the boy a few times, snapping the flogger occasionally.

“Color?”

Ichigo let out a shuddered breath, but his voice was all confidence when he replied.

“Green, Sir.”

“Good to know you didn't lose all your manners, Kitten,” he said amicably. “You don't need to count these, just feel. Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ichigo jolted at the first hit, just a sting of leather kissing flesh, but it was disconcerting to not know when it was coming. The second wasn't much harder, still the same sharp sting, just on his other shoulder.

It almost felt like his tension was melting as Zaraki worked the flogger over his shoulders, the skin warming under the hits.

A quiet yelp fell from his mouth at the sixth strike, much harder than the others. Rather than the calm sting he'd grown accustomed to, it left a line of fire down his right shoulder, heat spreading outward down his back.

“Such a good Kitten,” Zaraki praised, noting the hitch in Ichigo’s breath. “You look so pretty like this, ass covered in my handprints, back starting to get all red, and, oh, look at you,” he crooned, coming around to Ichigo's front. “Hard and leaking like a perfect little painslut, aren't you?”

Ichigo’s cock throbbed, another bead of precum glistening at the tip as he bit his lip to hold back a groan.

“So beautiful for me, Ichigo,” Zaraki murmured, delighting in the shudder that travelled down the redhead’s spine.

He made his way back around, snapping the leather against Ichigo’s skin again. It wasn't quite the soft sting from before, but it was nowhere near the burning pain that had come from the last strike. Zaraki alternated again, moving methodically over his back, sometimes striking harshly - though nowhere near as hard as he could, Ichigo wasn't ready for that yet - and sometimes barely letting the flogger touch his skin.

Ichigo made the prettiest noises, and he couldn't get enough of them. The little sobs, the gasps, the toe curling moans that dropped from sinful lips were all going straight to his dick. He wondered if the boy really would scream when he got him spread out on his cock.

“Last one,” he warned.

His wrist flicked sharply, laying the hardest strike yet down the center of the perfectly muscled back before him.

Ichigo let out a groan, his knees wobbling as fire streaked down his spine, pleasure shooting through his gut. He dimly heard the flogger falling to the ground before Zaraki’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Good boy, you did so well,” Zaraki said, hands softly caressing his stomach.

Ichigo let out a whimper as that hand dipped lower, fingers wrapping loosely around his aching cock, tugging just slightly. His head fell back against Zaraki’s strong shoulder, his hips unconsciously moving backwards to grind against the bulge in Zaraki’s jeans.

He hissed at the rough denim sliding over his tender skin, but the heat he could feel through the fabric was too good to pass up. And when the hand on his cock tightened and sped up, he couldn't do anything but ride it out.

“Please,” he sobbed, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

Zaraki’s hand immediately fell off his cock, his fingers tightening their hold on his hip to keep him still. He clicked his tongue in reprimand, that wicked mouth dropping to whisper into Ichigo’s ear.

“It's my turn, not yours, Kitten,” he reminded Ichigo, pressing his erection against the perfect ass in front of him. “If you behave, I might even return the favor while I prep you for my cock.”

Ichigo could do nothing but whine as he saw the heat in that green eye, feeling like he was going to melt at the man’s feet. So he did all he could think of, turning in Zaraki’s hold and immediately sinking to his knees in proper position, looking up at the hulking man imploringly.

A strong hand threaded through his hair, not quite tugging, just keeping him where he was.

“Ask for what you want, Kitten,” Zaraki reminded him.

Ichigo let out a hitched moan, taking a moment to breathe and shift so his cock didn't feel so much like it was going to explode.

“I want you to choke me with your cock, Sir,” he managed breathily. “Please.”

Zaraki’s fingers tightened in his hair, a groan falling from above him.

“Why don't you get to work then? Prove that you can do something other than sass me with that mouth, boy.”

“May I use my hands?” he asked, sitting perfectly still even as his mouth watered.

Zaraki stroked over his cheek with his free hand, smiling down at him.

“Only to take my pants off, no hands on my cock,” he commanded.

Ichigo immediately got to work as Zaraki pulled his shirt over his head, fingers fumbling with the button on the dark jeans, popping it open and pulling the zipper down slowly. He groaned when he caught a flash of skin; of course Zaraki would go commando.

His teeth bit into his lip as he yanked the jeans down and off. As he leaned forward, the fingers that had threaded back in his hair tightened, holding him back.

“Ask for it one more time,” Zaraki crooned, grinning down at him.

Ichigo scowled, lifting his chin mutinously at the request. He'd already asked once, he'd not do it again. Not unless Zaraki made him.

That thought got knocked out of his head as Zaraki’s hand crashed down over his face, leaving a sharp, stinging pain. He gasped, his hand automatically flying up to gingerly touch his cheek. The hit hadn't been hard, per se, but it knocked the breath out of him and would definitely leave a nice little red mark for a while. His shocked gaze flew up to Zaraki.

“Color?” the larger man grunted, loosening his hold on Ichigo’s hair fractionally.

“Green, Sir,” Ichigo breathed, not even having to think about it. This man was fucking perfect.

The hand in his hair tightened again, Zaraki’s gaze hardening as he stared down at Ichigo.

“Are you going to ignore another direct order, Kitten?” he asked. “Do I need to really put you in your place tonight? Or have you had enough to realize who's in charge here?”

Ichigo thought back to how his ass and back were still burning, throbbing in the best of ways as he knelt. His face was tingling slightly under his fingertips, and he couldn't fight back a smile. He bowed his head, folding his hands behind his back demurely.

“You’re in charge, Sir,” he said clearly. He lifted his head to catch the pleased smile being sent his way, taking a deep breath before speaking. “May I please taste you?”

Zaraki grinned, leaning down to put his face in Ichigo’s. His lips brushed over the boy's before pressing more firmly, finally getting his first real taste of Ichigo. The redhead was trembling when he pulled back.

“Much better, Kitten,” he praised. “You may.”

Ichigo looked up at him like he'd just won the lottery, excitement gleaming in pretty amber eyes as he slowly leaned in. Zaraki’s hand loosened its hold, instead just resting on Ichigo’s head and allowing his gentle exploration.

A line of heat flicked up the underside of his cock as Ichigo licked, leaning up on his knees to suckle the head between plush lips. There was no hesitation in his movement, and Zaraki recalled how emphatic the boy had been about loving to give head. Maybe he'd lucked out in every way possible and found himself the perfect little cockslut.

That pretty mouth slowly worked its way down his cock, tongue working confidently as his head bobbed. Zaraki idly wondered how much Ichigo would be able to take of him - he wasn't exactly a small man. He'd probably have been able to focus more on keeping up his charge over the boy if that tongue hadn't been quickly working him into a pile of mush.

Ichigo's eyes never left his as his tongue lapped and twisted and did things that felt like they should be absolutely impossible. Zaraki sent up a prayer of thanks that he was close enough to lean back on the footboard of the bed. His knees were trembling at the onslaught of sensation, and he couldn't stop his fingers from twisting in that mop of hair at a particularly harsh suck.

“Seems like you do know how to use that mouth after all, Kitten,” he huffed breathlessly, watching as Ichigo sunk down another inch. He was still only a little more than halfway down, but it was more than most could handle.

Ichigo smirked as well as he could with a mouthful of cock, pausing for a moment to make sure he had Zaraki’s full attention. When that eye cleared up a bit, he sunk down, and down, until his lips were stretched wide enough to hurt, his nose brushing the skin of Zaraki’s hips.

Those hips bucked involuntarily, a choked shout falling from Zaraki’s lips as his hands clutched at Ichigo’s head. He managed to force his eye open just as Ichigo swallowed, sending it rolling back into his skull as his entire body shook.

He yanked the boy back, reveling in the cough and gravelly moan that came from him as Zaraki struggled for air above him.

“Fucking hell, Kitten,” he breathed, laughing at Ichigo’s snarky little grin.

He really looked unfairly good like that, lips red and spit slick, eyelashes just slightly wet, cock throbbing between his legs. So pretty down on his knees, and it was all for Zaraki to take.

“I'll give you a choice, baby boy,” he growled, raking his fingers through Ichigo's hair. He was feeling benevolent, why not? “You can either keep playing around like you have been, or I can fuck that pretty little face of yours. It's up to you, since you've been pretty good since I shut you up properly.”

Ichigo shuddered, a shaky exhale falling from his mouth as he stared up at Zaraki. The man looked like a god to him, all power and control and breathtaking beauty. He didn't even have to think about his answer.

“Fuck my face please, Sir,” he said breathily, voice still raw.

Zaraki grinned down at him, hand carding through his hair one last time before he guided his face forward. He let Ichigo adjust to having that thickness back in his mouth again before he ground his hips forward. He'd start out slow, let the boy get used to it a little.

That plan lasted all of forty seconds, Zaraki’s control stretched thin by the little movements of that wicked tongue. Before he knew it, he was letting his hips plow forward in a way he didn't think he'd ever been able to before. No one had ever really been able to take him all the way, not when he was being this harsh.

But Ichigo's throat opened up like he was made for it, drawing rough groans and gasps from the hulking man above him. He probably couldn't have held back even if he wanted to, not with the way Ichigo's eyes were rolling back into his head, tears welling at the corners even as moans vibrated up his throat around Zaraki’s cock. The boy was moving his head perfectly in time with Zaraki's thrusts, encasing him in slick, molten heat every other second.

He had to yank Ichigo off him, panting as he held the boy still.

“Do you want me to cum down your throat, or on that pretty face?” he asked roughly, cock throbbing in protest as his gaze fell to that perfect mouth.

“In my mouth, please,” Ichigo rasped, voice absolutely wrecked.

Zaraki groaned, his cock twitching at the sound, and he wasted no time thrusting back into that waiting heat, slamming forward harshly. Ichigo took him like it was nothing, doing his best to keep his eyes on the other man’s face as he loosened his jaw and just let Zaraki have his way.

Both of those hands clutched at his head as Zaraki thrust forward one last time before spilling down his throat, heat coursing through his body in waves. Ichigo moaned as he swallowed, suckling on the softening flesh in his mouth before it was pulled free. A green eye met brown, staring down at the boy in something akin to awe.

“That mouth of yours is dangerous, Kitten,” he wheezed, pulling Ichigo up to lean against him, bare skin to bare skin.

Ichigo smiled against his shoulder, stepping comfortably in between Zaraki's slightly spread thighs, sighing happily when strong arms wrapped him up and held him close. He could even ignore the way his cock throbbed with how perfectly content he felt in this man’s arms. Maybe it was just the endorphins, just the high, but Ichigo felt like he could stay there forever.

Zaraki’s breath caught in his chest when Ichigo looked up at him, a soft, warm smile on his pretty face. His lips were still red and wet, and his hair was a mess, but looking at him felt like coming home. He couldn't help but lean down and press a soft kiss to those lips, moaning as he tasted himself on Ichigo's tongue.

He took his time taking the boy apart, teasing him to a molten puddle in his arms with tongue and teeth and lips. When he pulled back, the whine that built in Ichigo's throat made him laugh.

“You're being so good for me, Kitten,” he whispered, trailing his fingers down Ichigo's spine softly. “I think you've earned your reward for the night, don't you?”

Those honeyed eyes went from soft to hazy, just the idea of finally getting what he really wanted forcing his body almost into overdrive. He rolled his hips forward, aching cock pressing against Zaraki’s already half hard length. Honestly, he probably would've just continued like that if the man hadn't pushed him back a bit to look into his eyes.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Ichigo?” he purred, fingers teasing the nape of his neck.

Ichigo nodded hastily, melting into every point of contact he had. The way Zaraki's body fit against his was distracting to the point of insanity; he just wanted to feel him inside finally.

“Verbal responses, Kitten,” Zaraki reminded, clicking his tongue at him.

Ichigo took a breath to clear his head from the frenzy of need it had spiraled into.

“Yes, please, Sir,” he said plaintively, pressing every inch of himself against the taller man. “I want you to split me open until I can't remember anything but your name.”

Zaraki’s hand tightened on his hip for a moment, his now hard cock pulsing against Ichigo’s as he bent down for another mind numbing kiss, just because he could.

“Good boy,” he growled against the redhead’s lips, not giving him time to respond before he scooped his hands under those lithe thighs and lifted Ichigo up.

Ichigo gasped against his lips, letting out a breathless little laugh as he locked his legs around Zaraki’s waist, allowing himself to be carried around to the bed. Zaraki lowered him slowly, pressing him into the mattress without ever letting up on the kiss, not wanting to lose the flavor that was purely Ichigo coating his tongue.

He forced himself to pull back, if only so they could both breathe, but he didn't waste much time, dipping his head to nip along Ichigo's throat, careful not to leave any serious marks. They hadn't discussed that, so as much as he wanted to brand this boy as his for the whole world to see, he'd wait until he'd asked. For now, he contented himself with tasting his way down Ichigo's chest, kissing and nibbling and watching every little reaction.

Ichigo was staring down at him, propped up on his elbows, and he couldn't quite resist digging his teeth into a strong thigh as he settled on his knees. He pushed Ichigo's legs wide, baring him to his gaze, licking his lips as Ichigo just allowed himself to be positioned, a pretty flush working across his face. Reaching over, he fumbled the lube out of the drawer in the bedside table, quickly slicking two of his fingers. He'd need more, but that would be enough to start with.

“You ready, Kitten?” he asked, trailing one finger against the circle of furled skin.

Ichigo started to nod, then caught himself.

“Please, Sir.”

Zaraki grinned, pressing a kiss to the underside of his thigh as the tip of his finger slowly worked its way in. Ichigo was unfairly tight, and hotter than he thought he'd ever felt before. Just the thought of having that feeling enveloping his cock was enough to make him lightheaded.

But he focused on his task, noting with no small amount of pleasure that he seemed to have rendered Ichigo speechless at last. The boy’s snark and defiance was certainly fun, but it made it all the more satisfying to strip it away.

“Look at you,” he crooned, crooking his finger slightly and pistoning it back and forth now that it was all the way in. “You _do_ know how to be nice, I just have to turn that mind of yours off.”

Ichigo looked down at him with hazy amber eyes, shaking his head as if to clear it. A slow smirk spread across his face, and Zaraki felt his gut clench in anticipation.

He started pressing a second finger in next to the first, just to see Ichigo falter for a second, but then a groan was falling from his lips.

The boy was trailing his hands teasingly up his thighs, stopping around the backs of his knees. When he got there, he ever so slowly, torturously, pulled his legs up higher than Zaraki thought was possible, bringing his knees up almost to his shoulders. Zaraki could feel his body shifting around the fingers that were half inside of him, sliding slick and hot around them.

“Well,” Ichigo said breathily, his voice alone making Zaraki’s cock jerk viciously. “You were talking about shutting my mind off, but it seems like yours just short circuited.”

That cocky smirk was back on his face, bottom lip between his teeth, even as pleasure made his eyes hazy.

Zaraki swallowed harshly, reminding himself that he was supposed to be in charge here. He tilted his head to the side, making sure he had Ichigo’s attention as a wolfish grin spread over his face, then thrust his two fingers harshly the rest of the way in. The sound that fell from Ichigo’s lips should have been illegal, Zaraki’s fingers crooking in involuntary response.

Apparently, he must have been right up against the boy’s prostate, because the redhead’s spine arched like a bow, his fingers clutching his thighs so hard they turned white as a choked moan fell from his lips.

Zaraki grinned, pressing up harder.

“You were saying, Kitten?”

Ichigo gasped out what might have been an attempt at a response, but was too garbled to make any sense of. Zaraki quickly poured more lube over his fingers, pressing a third in beside the others and continuing to hit Ichigo’s prostate on almost every thrust in.

Ichigo’s hands were clutching at his thighs, his head thrown back and his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Zaraki grinned, moving slowly so that the boy wouldn't notice, then thrust his fingers directly against his prostate and rubbed just as his mouth sealed over the tip of Ichigo’s cock.

A broken shout echoed around the room, a sob falling at the end of it.

“Please, Sir, please,” Ichigo begged, body aching to be filled.

Zaraki pulled his mouth off Ichigo’s cock with a harsh suck, licking his lips as he looked up into pleading brown eyes.

“What do you want?” he whispered huskily, thrusting his fingers in again.

Ichigo choked, eyes rolling back in his head momentarily.

“Please fuck me, Sir, I need you,” he whined, hips rolling down onto the fingers impaling him.

“One more time,” Zaraki grinned.

“ _Please_ ,” Ichigo sobbed, his body writhing in wordless demand.

Zaraki was on his feet and sliding a slick hand over his cock before the word had even finished falling from those perfect lips. His clean hand grasped the back of Ichigo’s thigh, holding him still as he guided his cock to that slick, welcoming heat.

His eye flicked up to Ichigo’s face, struggling to stay open past the onslaught of pleasure as he slowly pushed in. The boy was still so tight, and searing hot, filling Zaraki’s mind with the primal need to _take_. He wanted to watch Ichigo’s face while he filled him up, see what he looked like when he bottomed out.

Ichigo was gasping and doing his best to keep his eyes on Zaraki. It still burned, but the stretch of finally being filled felt so good, made him crave more. The second he could think past the pleasure, he was rolling his hips down to urge Zaraki in further.

“Behave, Kitten,” Zaraki growled, tightening his grip on Ichigo’s thigh warningly.

If the boy kept moving like that, he wouldn't be able to keep his control long enough for the initial stretch of it to fade. He planned to make every second of this absolutely mind blowing for Ichigo, and he needed to have total control in order to do that.

Ichigo obediently stilled, although he couldn't stop the involuntary twitches of muscle around Zaraki’s cock that were driving him crazy. Slowly, steadily, the older man pushed forward until his hips met Ichigo’s skin, rolling forward as he bottomed out with a groan. The boy’s body was hot and pliant, but so, _so_ tight; it felt like it was made just to drive Zaraki to the brink of insanity.

“Gods, please tell me that's all of it, Sir,” Ichigo laughed, fingers flexing on his thighs as he adjusted.

Zaraki’s chuckle rolled over him, low and sinful, as the man pressed a kiss to Ichigo’s calf.

“That's all of it,” he promised, grinning down at the boy beneath him. “Can you handle it, Kitten?”

Ichigo’s eyes slotted back open, focusing on Zaraki’s face as his entire body seemed to roll, pulling him slowly off the massive cock inside of him and sinking him back down over it. He smirked victoriously, like he wasn't shaking from the pleasure too.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said flippantly.

Zaraki stilled, staring down at Ichigo and trying not to laugh at how much spunk that boy still had in him.

“Hands above your head,” he said softly, wiping his hand still slick with lube on the sheets.  

Ichigo tilted his head to the side in curiosity, but did as he was told, crossing his wrists directly over his head. His knees dropped a bit, but Zaraki wasn't worried; he'd take care of that in a second.

“Keep them there,” he growled.

His fingers trailed up the backs of Ichigo’s thighs, enjoying the little shiver the redhead couldn't quite tamp down. He grinned as he gripped the boy’s calves firmly and lifted them even further to rest on his shoulders. Pulling out just a few inches, he slammed back into the pliant body beneath him, watching the way Ichigo's eyelids fluttered.

“That's a pretty look,” he crooned, immediately regretting his teasing when Ichigo clamped down around his cock, his hips thrusting forward without his control. “Brat,” he ground out.

Ichigo laughed up at him breathlessly, his fingers flexing where they were over his head.

“Are you going to fuck me, Sir, or just tease me all night?” Ichigo teased, although the effect was slightly ruined by the hitched moan that interrupted his sentence.

Zaraki watched the boy’s face as he slowly wrapped his hand around that slender throat, the movement of each finger deliberate. He leaned down to press a kiss against soft lips, squeezing his fingers just slightly.

“Are you still ok for me to choke you, Kitten?” he murmured against his lips.

Ichigo leaned up to catch his mouth in another kiss, like he couldn't get enough of the taste of him, before nodding.

“Yes, Sir,” he whispered back.

“Good boy.”

And with that, he leaned back, drawing his hips back slowly before snapping them forward. Ichigo’s snarky little grin devolved into him biting his lip, little gasps and breathy moans escaping him at every thrust. Zaraki could barely hold back his groans at just how outrageously tight the boy was, the way he moved against him, the way that spine arched so prettily.

Ichigo's hands were clutching at each other over his head, twitching every so often like he wanted to grab onto Zaraki, so he wrapped a hand around both wrists and let Ichigo claw and struggle against him like he so clearly wanted to. Slowly, he increased the pressure of his fingers around Ichigo’s throat, watching as the boy’s mouth dropped open in a whine as his neck arched up into his hand, begging for more.

“Pretty little thing,” he growled out, turning his head to nip at Ichigo's calf where it was perched on his shoulder.

Ichigo’s hips jolted very time Zaraki praised him, every time he heard his voice, really.

Soon, his hips were moving back to meet every thrust, his throat and wrists firmly in Zaraki’s grasp, that wicked mouth nipping and kissing over his calves. His cock was absolutely throbbing, leaking over his abs and begging to be touched, just that little extra to send him over the edge.

“Please,” he sobbed out, eyes catching on Zaraki’s, hips rising to meet his.

Zaraki grinned and ground his hips forward, reveling in the broken little gasp he got as he pressed directly against Ichigo’s prostate.

“You wanna cum, Kitten?” he crooned, hips never slowing.

Ichigo nodded wordlessly, his lips trying to form words but failing as Zaraki hammered mercilessly into his prostate. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“You want me to touch you so you can cum?” Zaraki goaded further.

Ichigo let out a sob, not able to think past the vicious ache in his balls, the desperate need to cum.

“I'm not gonna touch you,” Zaraki told him, thrusting forward harder than before, skin slapping against skin. “You're gonna cum for me, just like this.”

“ _Please_ ,” Ichigo sobbed, cock aching and weeping, entire body begging for release, for anything at this point.

Zaraki leaned down and caught his mouth in a filthy kiss, sucking on his tongue and nipping at his already swollen lips. He slammed in harshly, grinding his cock right against Ichigo's prostate as the boy writhed and whimpered under him, breathless pleas falling from his lips.

“Cum,” he growled against Ichigo’s lips.

Ichigo couldn't have resisted if he wanted to. His entire body arched like a bow, thrashing against Zaraki’s hold. His cock jolted as he came so hard his vision went spotty, drops of cum landing on his own chin.

Zaraki groaned above him and slammed in one last time before stilling, hips jerking as he filled Ichigo up.

Ichigo panted beneath him as they both fought for breath, the fog slowly clearing from their minds. Zaraki carefully pulled out, a twinge of sympathy going through him at Ichigo’s wince, but he was distracted easily enough by the sight of his cum trailing out of the boy’s body. It was like a mark that he hadn't allowed himself to place on the boy’s skin, so much deeper than that. He looked thoroughly debauched, his messy hair spiked in different directions as he lay on the bed, hands still above his head.

Zaraki grinned at him, climbing up and pulling the redhead against his chest, feeling Ichigo melt against him.

“Such a good boy, Kitten, you did so well for me,” he praised, smiling stupidly at the happy little noise Ichigo made as he burrowed even closer into Zaraki’s chest. “So pretty, Ichigo. Do you want me to stay right here, or can I get you cleaned up a bit? We’re gonna cuddle plenty, but I'd like to get this muck off of you before we shower, baby boy.”

Ichigo hummed in response, bonelessly sliding his arm up across that broad chest and twining his fingers in Zaraki’s hair, which had surprisingly stayed in the bun he'd put it in.

“You can clean me up,” Ichigo mumbled, eyes closed.

Zaraki couldn't stop the hapless smile any more than he could stop himself from pressing a lingering kiss against the crown of Ichigo’s head as he slowly pulled away.

“I'm just going to the bathroom to get a cloth,” he said as he walked over quickly. “I'm gonna get it wet and then come back and wipe you down,” he narrated.

It was always better for a sub to have something to hold onto if they didn't have their Dom, so Zaraki always did his best to keep talking if he wasn't right there. Even so, he was back in less than thirty seconds, gently rolling Ichigo over onto his back.

He pressed a soft kiss to the boy's waist as he gently wiped the cum and sweat from his still trembling body. They'd shower properly later, but he knew it would feel better until then to not be covered in everything.

“You really did do so well for me, Ichigo,” he said seriously, spreading his thighs and wiping the cloth gently over his leaking entrance.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ichigo said blearily, caramel eyes hazily watching him work.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, climbing back up and helping Ichigo under the covers, then pulling him flush against his body.

“I'm tingly all over,” Ichigo laughed, inhaling Zaraki’s comforting scent. “I've never cum untouched before.”

Zaraki looked down at him, brow raised, and felt his heart skip a beat at the sappy little grin on Ichigo’s face. The boy’s eyes were closed, and his hand was curled loosely over Zaraki’s heart. It looked like he belonged there. Zaraki wanted him to belong there.

“This was so much more than I expected it to be,” he continued. Suddenly, tension filled his limbs, and he pulled away from Zaraki just a little bit. “Uh, do you think maybe we could do this again?” he asked hesitantly.

His eyes opened and he pushed himself up before Zaraki had time to answer him.

“I mean, I know you could get pretty much anyone you want, and I'm inexperienced and don't know all that much about this, but I really am willing to learn, and this was incredible, and I-”

Zaraki surged up and silenced him with a kiss, pouring all his warmth and honest affection into it as he held Ichigo still.

“Ichigo, hush,” he soothed, pressing his forehead against the boy's. “You're just coming down from your first scene, and you need to rest.” Before Ichigo could do more than let hurt flash across his eyes, Zaraki continued. “This was absolutely amazing, Kitten; you behave exactly how I want my sub to. Once you're feeling better, I'd like to exchange numbers, and if you want, I'd like to see you here again next weekend. We’ll see how things go, and maybe discuss a contract if that's something you end up wanting.” He pressed a chaste to kiss to the boy’s mouth, just to settle him further. “You have nothing to worry about, baby boy, you were brilliant.”

Ichigo blushed, allowing himself to be pulled back down. He wrapped his arms around Zaraki and pressed his face into his chest, unable to stop the tears from coming.

“I'm sorry,” he laughed wetly. “I'm not upset, I don't know why I'm crying.”

Zaraki chuckled, brushing his hand calmingly over Ichigo’s back.

“It's a very common response, baby boy, no need to apologize.” He tipped Ichigo’s chin up. “And you never have to apologize to me for your tears, Kitten, no matter the reason.”

Ichigo’s eyes welled up further even as he laughed at himself, and he nodded, smiling warmly at Zaraki. He reached up to wipe his tears from his cheeks and sniffled at bit before turning his head to press a kiss into Zaraki’s palm where he'd been cradling the boy’s face.

“Can we take a shower?” he asked quietly, not wanting to break the spell of lovely warmth that was settling over him.

Zaraki smiled and nodded, tossing the covers back and sliding out of bed. Ichigo went to follow, but before he could do more than slide to the edge of the bed, strong arms were lifting him bridal style and carrying him into the bathroom. The older man set him down on the toilet and turned to switch the shower on, giving it a second to heat up.

“Can you stand?” Zaraki asked, brushing a thumb over Ichigo’s jaw. “I want to put some cream on your back and butt so they're less sore tomorrow.”

“I think so,” Ichigo nodded, carefully pushing himself up to stand and allowing Zaraki to turn him towards the mirror, jar of cream already in hand.

He caught sight of the two of them in the mirror just as Zaraki did. The taller man grinned, leaned down to press a kiss along Ichigo’s throat, still red where he'd held it.

“Pretty,” he murmured against Ichigo’s skin, chuckling at the blush that spread across the redhead’s cheeks, then started to spread the cream over his back and shoulders, his hands light and soothing, even as his callouses brushed over Ichigo’s tender flesh.

He couldn't quite resist a quick squeeze of that perfect little ass when he got down to it, grinning at Ichigo’s surprised gasp.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to Ichigo’s shoulder.

Ichigo just shook his head with a laugh, leaning back into Zaraki’s arms after the cream was put aside. Zaraki just enveloped him, holding the boy's back to his chest, feeling their heartbeats slow and sync.

“Shower?” he whispered.

Ichigo nodded, pouting for a second at the chill when Zaraki stepped back. He was quickly distracted as the man pulled a hair tie from his hair and let it flow free down his shoulders.

“It's so long,” Ichigo said, reaching up to run his fingers through the strands.

Zaraki just chuckled at him, letting Ichigo play for a moment before holding out his hand. Ichigo allowed himself to be pulled under the steaming water, a soft moan falling from his lips as the warmth permeated his aching muscles and slid over his body. Zaraki chuckled, pulling him back into the position they had been in, both of them under the water.

He couldn't seem to stop kissing all along the pale line of Ichigo’s neck and down his shoulder, just chaste little presses of lips to skin as Ichigo melted into him.

“It was so hard to stop myself from marking you up,” he confessed, his tongue coming out to follow his lips. “I wanted to leave marks all over your skin, where everyone could see them.”

Ichigo shivered against him.

“Why didn't you?” he asked, tilting his head further to the side to give Zaraki better access.

“I hadn't asked,” he said simply, teeth grazing over skin, far too lightly to mark.

“You could, if you wanted to,” Ichigo offered breathlessly, pressing back against Zaraki’s questing mouth. “I wouldn't mind.”

“I could, could I?” Zaraki murmured, teasing tongue and teeth over the sensitive skin. “You’d like that, wouldn't you? You'd like to see proof of what I did to you, have a reminder every time you look in the mirror.”

Ichigo nodded as best he could, still offering his throat to the man as they stood under the spray of water.

“I suppose I could humor you, then,” he mumbled against Ichigo’s skin, mouth watering at the idea of having his mark on this boy where anyone could see it.

He closed his mouth around the soft skin, sucking and worrying it between his teeth until Ichigo was whining and pressing back against him. Pulling back, he looked down at his handiwork with a smug smirk. A dark bruise was already blooming on the right side of his throat, high enough that no shirt collar would obstruct it. It sent a jolt of pride through him to have his mark on this beautiful, perfect creature, to know that Ichigo wanted more of him just as much as he did.

“It looks good on you,” he grinned, spinning Ichigo around to face him.

He bent down and pressed a hungry kiss to the boy's mouth, loving the way Ichigo just melted right into him, hands coming up to clutch at his biceps as Zaraki pressed him into the wall. His big hands bracketed Ichigo’s hips, holding him still so he could thoroughly explore every reaction he got from the boy.

“Thanks,” Ichigo said breathlessly once Zaraki pulled back.

Zaraki grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, pulling him forward under the spray and reaching behind him. He grabbed the shampoo that was always kept stocked and squirted some into his palm.

“Close your eyes, Kitten, I’m gonna wash the muck out of your hair.”

Ichigo obediently shut his eyes, tilting his head back with a little smile on his face. He let out a soft sigh as Zaraki’s hands began working the suds through his short hair, fingers massaging his scalp until he felt utterly boneless. Who would have thought that such a massive, rough looking man would be so gentle?

“Can I wash yours when you’re done?” he asked quietly.

Zaraki’s fingers stilled for a moment before he let out a deep laugh, rinsing the soap from his hair and watching the bubbles slide down Ichigo’s body.

“Sure, anything you want,” he chuckled.

Ichigo’s smile was brilliant, even with his eyes closed, and Zaraki almost wanted to keep him there and just stare at him, but he leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, laughing as he startled and his eyes shot open.

“All done,” Zaraki whispered in his ear, amusement clear in his voice.

Ichigo scowled at him for a moment before his lips twitched into an involuntary smile, a soft laugh escaping him.

“My turn then,” he chirped, plucked the shampoo off the shelf and squirting out a generous palmful. The man did have a _lot_ of hair, after all.

Surprise coursed through him as Zaraki gracefully knelt in front of him, head tilted back. There was a smirk on that handsome face as Ichigo’s hands reached forward on autopilot.

“You wouldn't have been able to reach otherwise,” Zaraki deadpanned.

While it was probably true, Ichigo hadn't ever been called short, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“I'm gonna get shampoo in your mouth,” he threatened, although the delivery was slightly ruined by the laugh that forced its way through.

“It's usually my job to wash your mouth out, Kitten,” Zaraki rebutted smoothly.

Ichigo laughed, fingers working the soap through the man’s hair slowly, enjoying the way his eyelids were fluttering closed and a pleased little smile was stretching across his lips. Sooner than he would've liked, Ichigo was rinsing the suds out of Zaraki’s hair, the water running clear over muscled skin.

“All done,” Ichigo informed him, watching as Zaraki shifted and raised himself from his knees elegantly.

A strong hand cupped his chin and a sweet kiss was pressed to his lips as Zaraki reached behind the boy to shut the water off. The kiss lingered longer than he meant it to, morphing into him holding Ichigo crushingly close as their mouths moved languidly against one another.

“Let's get you back in bed,” Zaraki said, the colder air of the bathroom already making Ichigo shiver now that the water wasn't warming him.

Ichigo nodded his agreement, letting Zaraki quickly dry him off with a soft towel before leading him back to the bed and lifting the covers so he could slide under. As soon as he was comfortable, Zaraki was sliding in next to him, wrapping strong arms around his waist and pulling him into a muscled chest.

His scent was soothing, and Ichigo melted into him. Everything about being there was so calming, so centering, and Ichigo never wanted to leave.

They stayed like that for a while, neither of them paying attention to how much time had passed, just basking in each other's arms.

“Ichigo,” Zaraki said hesitantly.

Ichigo looked up, a content smile on his face, looking very much like the cat that got the cream.

“Mhm?” he answered, looking adoringly at the older man.

Zaraki chuffed out a laugh, stroking his hand down the redhead’s back.

“I'm going to leave this up to you, because you know yourself better than anyone,” he stated softly. “If you'd like to, if you think it'll be safer for me to keep an eye on you for longer, you could come and stay at my place for the night. The club is closing soon, and this was your first scene. You're handling it incredibly well, but I'd rather not leave you just to have you go into sub drop.”

That wouldn't be a good ending to his first experience, no matter how good the rest of it may have been. And maybe…

“Or you could stay just because you wanted to,” he offered quietly.

Ichigo was silent for a few moments, his face thoughtful, before he broke out into a lyrical little laugh.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I'm not laughing at you. It's just, the situation, yknow?” He ran his hand over Zaraki’s chest. “Like, I didn't even really expect to meet anyone tonight, and now the most gorgeous guy I've ever laid eyes on is inviting me home with him.”

Zaraki chuckled, pressing a kiss to the crown of all that red hair.

“I was expecting you to say something about ‘Zaraki Kenpachi of Nozarashi’ but I think I like how you phrased it better.”

“Oh, well that too,” Ichigo laughed. “I kinda forgot, honestly.”

“And that,” Zaraki said, smiling as he lifted Ichigo’s chin, “is half of why I'm offering. You want me as a person, not as a celebrity.”

He pressed a slow, molten kiss to Ichigo's lips, dipping his tongue inside to get another taste of that addictive flavor. When he pulled back, Ichigo was blushing cutely. He couldn't get enough of that look.

“Are you sure about me staying?” Ichigo asked hesitantly, glancing away.

“If I'm being honest, I want you to stay more than the night,” Zaraki said quietly. “I know it's very early, and I know this kind of situation is naturally very intense and magnifies things, but I've never had this kind of chemistry with someone. I've never held someone and felt my entire being settle and calm. I want a contract with you, I want to keep you, I want you to be mine.” He framed Ichigo's shocked face in his hands. “I don't want to pressure you into any of that, but I believe complete honesty is very important. So, if you'd like, we could start with you staying with me tonight, and see how things go from there.”

Ichigo's hands were lightly circling his wrists, amber eyes swimming with unspoken emotion as he pushed up and kissed Zaraki harshly.

“Yes,” he whispered against his lips before leaning down and resting his head on that broad chest. “I don't want to rush into anything, but I do want to say that you're not the only one with those feelings.”

Zaraki smiled brilliantly above Ichigo's head, his heart constricting happily as his fingers played in the redhead’s soft hair.

“Why don't we get home, then? I'll make you anything you want to eat and we can drink hot cocoa in the garden before bed,” he promised, unable to hold back the goofy smile splitting his face.

**Author's Note:**

> This will eventually be a series of sorts, I'm currently writing Nnoitra and Shinji's first meeting. Byakuya and Renji will most likely get their own story, as well as Aizen and Gin. Not sure about Nel and Inoue, as I've never written F/F.


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